Serendipity
by mr-random-guy
Summary: COMPLETE (finally!) Lizzie and Gordo have no choice but to pretend they're a couple in order to save their social lives. What happens when they find something they didn't intend to?
1. Demon Cheerleaders

General Disclaimer (for all chapters): I do not own any of the brand names or references thereto within this story, nor do I have any ownership of 'Lizzie McGuire' and/or any of the characters related to the Disney television show/movie. This story has been written for the purposes of entertainment and sheer fun only.  
  
A/N: This is my latest Lizzie McGuire FanFic and will probably be the last one for some time, so I'll write it as fast as possible (daily updates are more than likely). I know where I want this story to go, I've planned it out for some time, so essentially all you guys have to do is sit back and enjoy the. . .err. . .show? Anywho, here I present "Serendipity" (has nothing to do with the movie).  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
"Puh-leeeease!" she whined, "you've *so* got to help with this".  
  
"Not a chance Lizzie. I've explained this all before; it's just *another* social event where the popular kids can laugh at the err- less popular kids. No one's gonna ask me and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it get to me," he explained. She'd heard it all before and knew better than to make a scene.  
  
"Yeah but that's what you don't get, Gordo. This one is important. It's like- going to set a precedent for our how entire high school lives," she persisted, waving her arms for good measure. He seemed to do that frequently, especially when he was convincing her to do something, so she figured it must be beneficial.  
  
"I don't care," he replied with finality, steadfast with his answer. The conversation was over as far as he was concerned, she picked it up in the way he had seemed to want to end the conversation.  
  
"Gordo," she began, looking at him and attempting to catch his gaze, "do you want to be known as the pair who DIDN'T turn up to *the* most important social event prior to high school?"  
  
"No but-"  
  
"Ha!" she interrupted, poking him, "I knew you'd come 'round".  
  
"No you see-" he continued, but once again, she cut him off.  
  
"So it's settled, we're going but. . .we're going to have to find dates-"  
  
"Look what I found," Kate Sanders sidled up, complete with cheerleading bouncers left and right, "loser and. . .err. . .loser-er".  
  
"Get off your high horse, Kate," Lizzie snapped.  
  
"Ooo," Kate taunted. It was her nature. No- job, it was her *job* to ensure that she was in total control; domination was the best way to stay at the top of the social hierarchy that formed a middle schooler's life. "Kate, why do you feel the need to throw your weight around?" Gordo asked casually.  
  
Everyone gasped. That was an erroneous zone. No one dared challenge a cheerleader with any battle concerning weight. Of course, Gordo was referring to 'power' and 'status' but the limited vision of the cheerleaders had read only one meaning in his question.  
  
"How DARE you!" Kate boomed, sneering and stepping closer.  
  
A modest crowd had formed but took a step back, lining the lockers of the main hall of Hillridge Junior High.  
  
"I'm just pointing out that you shouldn't pay-"  
  
Kate further interrupted, "I know EXACTLY what you're pointing out and you better stop RIGHT now or- or I'll- I'll do something so bad to you". The cheerleaders to Kate's left and right nodded, attempting quickly to emulate her expression of utter fury at Gordo's 'insolence'.  
  
Lizzie had watched the whole thing, awe struck as much as Kate was. Gordo was one of those guys who just didn't care about anything that anyone else thought. That was his- his way of thinking. She liked that about him. He had tried for so long to try to get *her* to see his way of thinking but it never seemed to work out.  
  
On a few occasions, Lizzie *had* seen the world through Gordo's eyes, but there were only a handful of instances where that had happened.  
  
Kate snaked off, cheerleaders in tow, walking down the hall to her next class. Apart from being impressed, Lizzie was thankful she had a friend like Gordo, who really didn't have any qualms about challenging the social structure of their little world. Gordo had that unique ability to step outside the controlled atmosphere of junior high and live in his own carefree one.  
  
They began to walk in the opposite direction to Kate, "that was pretty- amazing back there," Lizzie said quietly, holding back a smile.  
  
Gordo half-smiled, in that special way, and looked at her, "it was, wasn't it?"  
  
She giggled and hit him playfully.  
  
"Oh. My. Gosh!" Miranda squealed, running from behind them and jumping up and down wildly, "guess who's going to the Summer dance with- get this- Joey Crowther?"  
  
Joey Crowther was one of those guys who was so *totally* to die for, that hung around with the 'in' guys.  
  
"AND," Miranda continued, "I think he *likes* me too".  
  
"Of course he *likes* you," Gordo imitated, "otherwise you wouldn't be going to the dance with him, would you?"  
  
"Don't raid on my celebrations Gordo," Miranda replied flatly.  
  
Gordo shrugged.  
  
"I'm so- happy for you!" Lizzie lied, trying to sound bubbly and excited. Now she had a problem.  
  
"Yeah this is gonna be like- so great!" Miranda continued gleefully. She was walking on air. The hottest guy in school was taking her to the dance, she had a right to. But what did that all mean for Lizzie?  
  
"I *so* know what I'm going to do to you now!" Kate's voice came from behind the three. They spun around in unison to face her.  
  
"Well- I'm not so sure this concerns Miranda too much but oh you know, we'll see," Kate continued. Lizzie narrowed her eyes slightly. Kate wasn't demonically evil but was kind of strange at times.  
  
"Looks like you and Gordo are the only one's of any significance, who won't be going to the dance," she spoke, raising her voice for others to hear. The cheerleaders that were at Kate's side took up their positions again and grinned.  
  
"The Summer dance is for couples only, not one offs, EVERYONE knows that!" Kate bubbled, looking around to make sure everyone had comprehended the propaganda blasting from her mouth.  
  
"I'm going with Ethan so, ta ta, losers, maybe in high school I'll save you a spot in the cool group- oh wait! No, I won't!" she laughed, turning around again and leaving with her crew.  
  
Sometimes Lizzie just wanted to scream. This was one of those times.  
  
It couldn't possibly be true that she and Gordo were the only one's in school that were-  
  
"Lizzie, don't let her get to you," Gordo interjected, bringing Lizzie back into reality.  
  
Miranda looked at Lizzie and Gordo with an uneasy look, "I'll catch you guys later," she said, waving and bolting off.  
  
Lizzie stood with Gordo by her side, panicking. 


	2. Walking Home

A/N: Right, got plenty of demands for more, so here's the next update =) enjoy!  
  
--Gordo--  
  
Lizzie and Gordo both walked home slowly. Normally, Miranda would be there too, but since she'd recently accepted an invitation to go to the Summer Ball with Joey Crowther, she decided to stick with him more. Gordo felt a little uneasy about the whole thing. It meant a *lot* more time alone with Lizzie.  
  
He liked that. Alone time with Lizzie. But it didn't live up to what he really wanted. Of course, what he really wanted would mean coming clean and levelling with her. That is, telling her the truth. Telling her what he *really* felt.  
  
"What would you say if I said 'I've got a plan'?" Lizzie asked, interrupting Gordo's thoughts.  
  
"I'd say 'uh oh'," he replied, playing with her, hiding an element of truth to his statement.  
  
She narrowed her eyes and attempted to look serious, "come on, I've had some pretty good ideas in the past".  
  
"Yes," Gordo answered, becoming more serious himself, "you have, but. . .realistically McGuire, they've had a few kinks".  
  
Lizzie sighed and rolled her eyes, "well then Mr. 'Ever-so-flawless' at planning. . .what have you got?"  
  
"I told you what I've got," he sighed. That was the problem with Lizzie. When she had her mind set on something, she just wouldn't move on, "I suggested that we just get past it and let it go".  
  
"But that doesn't even slightly help in any way, Gordo! In fact- yes- that makes it WORSE, Gordo!" Lizzie yelled. She wasn't exactly angry, but Gordo could tell the prospect of not going was entirely frustrating to her. He didn't like disappointing her or letting her down.  
  
"I suppose- you know- maybe we could go. . .?" Gordo asked softly.  
  
"There's no way we can do that Gordo. Everyone knows the Summer Ball is for the couples before we all head on up to high school," Lizzie replied matter-of-factly.  
  
Even with blatant hints like that she still couldn't see what he really felt. Gordo hid his sudden feeling of anguish and regret at having even decided to go there.  
  
"Oh. My. Gosh!" Lizzie squealed, eyes widening. She stopped dead and grabbed Gordo by the shoulders, turning him to face her.  
  
He was still entirely uncomfortable and perturbed at having to look at her. The easy way out would have been to run off, but he stayed, stifling all his thoughts of just how important the girl before him, was.  
  
"I just had the *most* brilliant idea," she bubbled, not trying to contain her joy at such a sudden stroke of pure genius as it seemed, "Gordo, how about you and I *pretend* to be a couple and go to the dance together?"  
  
She stood there, hands on his shoulders, smiling for good measure. Her face pleaded- no begged him to agree with her. He hated it. Not only was the plan totally radical in terms of living a lie, but it was heartbreaking to think that she could go through with it.  
  
He nodded in defeat.  
  
She jumped, throwing her arms around his neck and embraced him.  
  
"See, I figure, everyone already- you know, thinks there's something going on and this would be like, the most perfect way to get away with it," she added, trying to convince him further.  
  
To be fair, he was in two minds. He was about to fake being Lizzie's- partner of sorts, which didn't seem like such a bad idea; on the other hand, it was all just a farce. Needless to say, it was going to be a totally extroverted relationship. Superficial and nothing more.  
  
There wouldn't be any true connection between them, they'd just be smiling and waving at the cameras after all. Gordo imagined himself quickly, as one of those Hollywood actors husbands- not rich or world famous; rather, infamous and dastardly. It was plain to see that most Hollywood marriages were shams.  
  
Ironically, Gordo had once criticised Hollywood relationships in a debate with Miranda. If only she had been there to see the whole thing-  
  
"Earth to Gordo," Lizzie's voice floated, interrupting his train of though, "you haven't said anything in- years," she teased.  
  
"Oh. . .right," he garbled.  
  
"Are- are you okay?" Lizzie asked confusedly, cocking her head slightly.  
  
"No!" he spluttered, snapping back to reality, "I'm fine- I was just. . .yeah we should probably get- home".  
  
"This is *so* great! We're going to show Kate that we won't take this lieing down," Lizzie threw in excitedly. Gordo was contented that Lizzie was pleased about the new arrangement, but continued to suppress any thoughts of the preparation being 'a bad idea'. He swallowed.  
  
The pair continued around the corner to Lizzie's street.  
  
"There's just a few things we need to- to talk about before we go ahead and do this Gordo," Lizzie said softly.  
  
"Like?" Gordo asked, looking over at her slightly. He was prepared to go above and beyond for his best friend, but this idea had already put him behind enemy lines.  
  
"Oh. . .you know," she continued, "we just have to sort of pretend that we've been close for a while".  
  
"But we *have* been close, Lizzie! We're best friends! You're treating me like- like I'm a doll you can- you can dress up or dress down however you want. Here's some news-" Gordo shouted, but he ended his sentence before he felt he said something that would jeopardise an already delicate situation.  
  
There was a pause as they both stopped. Lizzie stood with her mouth agape, shocked by his outburst.  
  
"It's just-" he said timidly, "I need to think about all this before we- we," but once again, he couldn't talk to her, the whole moment was a whir of emotions, "I'm going home," he muttered and turned in the direction of his house.  
  
Lizzie continued to stand on the corner, watching him walk away.  
  
Gordo walked for some time that afternoon. It was late when he arrived home. Not that it really mattered; his parents had left a note saying that they too would be late home. Gordo loved his parents as any teenager would, but often felt rejected by their constant need to work.  
  
And then he thought about it all again.  
  
That was his problem. No one bothered to talk to 'Gordo'. Everyone wanted to speak with the ever intelligent, problem solving, politically correct, David Gordon. Sure Lizzie *called* him Gordo, but she didn't bother to search inside his mind.  
  
Or did she?  
  
Was he listening to her?  
  
Were his parents listening to him?  
  
Was he listening to his parents? Plenty of things needed answering. Perhaps the only way to acquire answers was to go along with what the crowd wanted.  
  
Perhaps going along with Lizzie and pretending to be her boyfriend wasn't such a bad idea after all. It still stood to reason that it was going to be all one big lie. It was against his morals and ethics as a friend and as a human.  
  
He bit down softly on his lower lip.  
  
Maybe it was time to bite the bullet. Maybe it was time to rethink the values and ethics he had held in such high esteem.  
  
Lizzie had always called him evolved. Maybe it was time to evolve again.  
  
It was decided.  
  
He was about to be Lizzie McGuire's boyfriend- well- in a matter of speaking. . . 


	3. Phone Calls

A/N: Had time in between work and such to put this one together =)  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
Sometimes he just didn't make sense. Not that it was a bad thing. It just confounded her. Left her unsure of what to say or do. He was a complicated guy; deep, emotional, brooding. He tried so hard though, to keep it all in. To project an image of not caring what others said or thought. Usually he was pretty good at getting away with it. There were times Lizzie was convinced that Gordo had progressed beyond everyone in their grade.  
  
He wasn't physically any more developed or anything- rather, he was slightly deficient in that area; his lower stature came to Lizzie's mind. But that didn't matter. Even if it was considered by most to be an inferior aspect.  
  
Gordo didn't care what any perceived him as. The only thing he did care about was himself. Not in a selfish way of course. More in a developed fashion; as if only his thoughts and emotions were important, not what others believed were.  
  
That's what Lizzie loved about him. Wait- did she love him at all?  
  
It was often debated in her mind. . .what she 'felt' for Gordo. The conclusion was always the same- there was no conclusion. She would often go round and round in circles, through the pros and cons of altering their situation- no, altering their relationship. That's what it really meant.  
  
There was a stalemate though. She didn't know what Gordo truly thought and without that knowledge she wasn't ready to move or modify anything they had, if he wasn't about to tell her how he felt. If he felt *anything* at all.  
  
She began thinking of the incident on the corner earlier that afternoon. What made him snap? Why did he blow-up? There *had* to be more to it, than him just not wanting to go to the Summer Ball. Gordo wasn't of that temperament. There was always a reason for a stark display of raw emotion. Not that they often happened.  
  
The phone rang. It was probably Gordo, so she shot up off her bed and fumbled with the telephone receiver.  
  
"Gordo!" she blurted out mindlessly.  
  
"Err. . .it's Miranda, Lizzie. . ." Miranda's voice floated, confused but seemingly not surprised.  
  
"Oh!" Lizzie replied, panicking slightly, "what's up? Why did you call?" she asked quickly, attempting to change the focus of the conversation.  
  
"I got a WAY major problem," Miranda answered, a slight hint of panic in her voice.  
  
"Well- fill me in," Lizzie urged, sensing a problem was arising.  
  
Miranda began to sob, "yeah my parents have totally screwed me; I'm going to Mexico in like five days Lizzie! Five days! You know what that means? That means I'm going to miss the Summer Ball by like two days! This is *so* not what I dreamed!" she babbled, occasionally incoherently.  
  
"Just calm down," Lizzie soothed, "it's going- wait. . .did you say you're going to miss the Ball?"  
  
"YES!" Miranda shouted, groaning in a mixture of anger and misery.  
  
"How long are you going to Mexico for?" Lizzie asked, concerned about how this whole fiasco was about to affect her.  
  
"Get this. . .I'm going for the whole summer, so I'll be missing graduation and everything!" Miranda moaned, sobbing more.  
  
Lizzie wasn't exactly sure what to say. She wanted to comfort her friend but had her mind on other things.  
  
"YES! I'm coming now!" Miranda screamed, forgetting to cover her receiver, "Lizzie, I got to go and help pack. . .my parents are totally so not being fair about this. . .oh and I gotta call Joey and-" she began to sob harder and the rest of the sentence was totally garbled and unintelligible.  
  
"Oh. . .yeah that's- yeah. . .I'm sorry Miranda," Lizzie replied, trying hard to follow the conversation but still failing to get anywhere with Miranda.  
  
"I'll see you at school tomorrow for like, our last day together until. . .high school!" Miranda said, sobbing ever more, if it were possible.  
  
"Uh. . .bye Miranda, hope it all works out and I'll see you tomorrow," Lizzie answered uneasily, dropping the receiver onto the cradle and sighing.  
  
It wasn't as if she was totally concerned about herself, but Lizzie gradually started to become more apprehensive about the plan with Gordo. Sure it was just like- acting. All you had to do was play a part and convince everyone of it.  
  
From the outset, the idea was that Miranda would be there too, to be her confidant and assistant, had anything looked like it was going down the drain.  
  
Now. . .she only had Gordo.  
  
Lizzie shook her head and focused. The plan was designed to save Gordo and her from total high school social destruction. It was a good plan anyway. . .she just needed Gordo to see that too.  
  
The phone rang again.  
  
She walked over her phone and picked up the receiver once more.  
  
"Uh- Lizzie?" Gordo's voice came through. Lizzie was relieved. It was exactly who she needed- and wanted.  
  
"Yeah Gordo?" she replied softly, hoping he still wasn't cross with her.  
  
"I'm sorry about this afternoon," he began, "I was out of line and- and just spaced out of it a bit".  
  
"No!" she exclaimed, "I wa-"  
  
"No, no," he interrupted, "let me finish. I just wanted to say, that your plan is great and I'll go through with it. . ."  
  
"Really?" she answered confused. His sudden change of decision surprised her, even though he had just had plenty of time to rethink what was going on.  
  
"Yeah, let's do it," he said unconvincingly. She sensed the trepidation in his voice but put it all down to the same feelings of anxiety she had. It was nothing, just a bit of nervousness before a big social event.  
  
"Gordo. . .thanks, I- I really appreciate that," she replied candidly.  
  
"Right- well. . .I'll see you tomorrow and we'll talk this out a bit, you know, make sure everything's set," he continued, trying to sound casual and easy-going about the whole event.  
  
"Okay," she agreed, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"  
  
"Yeah- goodnight Lizzie," he trailed off, hanging up.  
  
She put the receiver down and placed it on its' cradle.  
  
It was amazing how everything had changed in a matter of a few minutes. Miranda. . .then Gordo. Normally she would have been worried that her friends had become so jumpy and anxious, but it was an odd time- a transition time. Her mother had spoken to her about it once.  
  
'Thing's will change now Lizzie,' she had said, 'it's a time when you kids will start becoming adults- you'll know it when you see it'  
  
Of course the prospect of becoming an adult *did* scare Lizzie but she didn't want to think about that now. She needed to lie down and sleep off the craziness of the past few moments. Anyway, tomorrow was her last day with Miranda and her first day *with* Gordo. . . 


	4. Under the Stairs

A/N: Not much time to muck around anymore, school is about to start again and this time it's serious. I'll do my best to get this one out as fast as possible though.  
  
--Gordo--  
  
She held his hand as an infant would hold its' mothers. It was uncomfortable but still had an essence of safety. Gordo sweated slightly and she felt it but thought nothing of it. After all, they were about to enter Hillridge Junior High, for the first time, as a couple.  
  
Gordo wasn't one for living lies. The whole prospect didn't sit well with him. He figured that if someone had something to hide, they'd be living in fear for- however long they wanted to. He didn't want that. He didn't want to live in fear of things that were, after all, trivial and experienced by many other people.  
  
Still, his heart fought on. This was all for Lizzie. It was what she wanted and he wasn't ready to let her down. To disappoint her. That would be- disastrous. So much, that he shied away from even thinking about such things.  
  
"Just. . .take it easy and play along with it. . .just go with it. . ." Lizzie muttered, looking at the ground all the while. She squeezed his hand to get a response out him.  
  
He swallowed and nodded.  
  
Perhaps she had gone *slightly* over the top, what with forcing him to hold hands all the way from the bus stop to the main gates. She probably figured she was being meticulous and covering herself from every angle.  
  
What was she protecting herself from though?  
  
Kate and her cronies?  
  
"There's going to be a lot of fuss Gordo," Lizzie whispered, edging towards the steps leading into the main complex of Hillridge Junior High, "people could be pointing, staring, whispering- you never know. . .but whatever you do, just don't lose your cool".  
  
Gordo looked at her sarcastically.  
  
"What?" she whispered again, "it's happened before," she giggled. That was perfect. She was giggling, holding his hand and whispering to him. All the hallmarks of teenage relationships.  
  
Gordo sighed heavily.  
  
"Yes?" she inquired, looking up at him a little.  
  
"N-nothing," he stuttered, "just thinking".  
  
Normally he was laid back and comfortable. No situation could ever get Gordo to the point where he felt uneasy. If anything, it was probably having to hold hands with Lizzie that and he had-  
  
"Ready?" she whispered, not waiting for his response and pushing the doors inwards.  
  
They stood in the doorway for a moment; waiting for heads to turn and gasps to fly around.  
  
None did.  
  
Lizzie narrowed her eyes. Gordo wondered for a moment what she was thinking. He didn't want to suggest anything. She was confident the plan was flawless and he wasn't about to rain down on her parade.  
  
They took a few steps forward.  
  
Lizzie was undeniably, positively drop-dead gorgeous. She'd woken up earlier than usual, she had told him, to find the perfect outfit and matching accessories. And there she stood, decked out impeccably. Slightly more tight fitting clothes than usual, hugging her body. Her hair was cut at that seemingly ideal length and pulled back with  
  
Gordo wasn't superficial, he really didn't care for fantastic clothes and trinkets. . .but it had a profound effect on him either way. Lizzie wasn't your usual catch. Not that Gordo had technically 'caught her'-  
  
"Keep up with me," she whispered, smiling at all whom they passed.  
  
No one particularly noticed, that was except, for Miranda.  
  
"I *knew* this day would come! I KNEW, this day, would come!" she squealed, grabbing Lizzie and Gordo by their necks and pulling them all together in one big 'group hug'.  
  
"Mi-randaaa!" Lizzie struggled for breath, "you're making a scene".  
  
Miranda let the pair go and stood back, "OH! Right, right. . .so when did this happen?" she asked, grinning mischievously.  
  
Lizzie looked a Gordo for reassurance. He wasn't certain of what Lizzie was going to tell Miranda. Perhaps she would let her in on the plan? It didn't trouble him-  
  
"Isn't this nice?" Kate observed, raising an eyebrow at the trio.  
  
Kate troubled him. She had the audacity to gamble anything for her benefit.  
  
Gordo looked at Lizzie, he remained holding her hand and she showed no sign of release.  
  
"So what, Kate?" Lizzie blabbed, using her free hand to gesture and attempting to match Kate's semi-wicked look.  
  
"I guess I should have scene this happening," Kate motioned between Gordo and Lizzie, "the love birds have been together since. . .whenever-"  
  
"Oh get a hobby, Kate!" Miranda shouted.  
  
Kate gasped for air, "did- did you-" she spun around looking at her cheerleading friends for recognition, "did she just interrupt me?"  
  
Cowering, the cheerleaders all nodded in unison causing Kate to turn once more and focus her gaze on Lizzie and Miranda. Gordo remained steadfast, squeezing Lizzie's hand softly.  
  
She looked at him briefly before returning to the front for more combat.  
  
"No one and I mean NO ONE," Kate raised her voice, ensuring everyone in the hall was aware of just what she was saying, "speaks to me like THAT!"  
  
"Yeah well, you can't push us around simply because you think you're better than us, which, just in case you hadn't heard, you're *not*," Miranda fought back, starring Kate down.  
  
Kate stood for a moment, searching quickly for a counter-attack but was broken, she screwed up her face and stomped off quickly.  
  
"So," Miranda said triumphantly, "where were we?"  
  
Lizzie blushed at Gordo and looked at the ground.  
  
"So it's finally happened," Miranda continued softly.  
  
"Lizzie. . ." Gordo trailed, squeezing her hand again.  
  
"It- I mean. . .we've- we're uhhh. . ." Lizzie fumbled, searching for the right words.  
  
Miranda shook her head, "I knew it was coming. . .I *so* knew this was coming," she beamed, "I'm happy for you guys".  
  
"Miranda," Lizzie interrupted, "why the sudden change of attitude. . .I mean we were going to try and make today- some fantastic send-off-"  
  
"We were?" Gordo interrupted, looking up at Lizzie, then quickly shooting his vision elsewhere.  
  
"Yes," Lizzie picked up, "we were- but. . .yeah things got in the way. . ."  
  
Miranda eyed the pair with descent and Gordo sensed immediately what was coming. Gordo and Lizzie weren't exactly *acting* as a couple would. There seemed to be an air of-  
  
"Lizzie, I think we better get to class," Gordo insisted, pulling her away from Miranda and where the conversation was going. He wasn't for the plan from the outset, but he had made it his mission to ensure he did his best- for Lizzie. It was boundless to say the whole thing was going to be a two way street and if anything was going to work for her, he needed to help.  
  
"Gordo!" she fought, alarmed and confused by his sudden change.  
  
"I *think*," he motioned to Miranda, then starring her in the eyes for the first time, "we best move on, before any *trouble* arises".  
  
Miranda looked at the pair sceptically. If she could see through them, then it would only be a matter of time before the whole thing fell to pieces.  
  
"Really, Lizzie," Gordo urged, pulling her a bit more, "let's get a move on- we have- that thing. . .you know that thing?"  
  
Lizzie snapped, clicking to his want to move, but unsure of why, "OH!" she exclaimed, "yeah that *thing*, let's get to it".  
  
Gordo rolled his eyes. Lizzie wasn't the greatest liar going around.  
  
Miranda watched them as the stumbled away, avoiding exposure.  
  
When Gordo was quite sure they had evaded Miranda, he stopped Lizzie and pulled her into a corner, under the stairs, "how badly do you want this to work?" he asked, looking at her seriously.  
  
"Well, seeing as our entire high school lives rest on what we do between now and then. . .I would say I value this- unbelievably, entirely, absolutely with my whole life!" she spluttered.  
  
"Then- then we're going to have to relax and pretend- no *act* as if we really *are* a couple. Miranda almost saw right through us," he pointed out, "and if she can figure it out- you can bet you bottom dollar Kate and her lot will too. That Lizzie McGuire, would be a fate worse than social death".  
  
She looked at him strangely for a moment. It was a tight spot under the stairs and quite obviously not meant for housing two people.  
  
Gordo thought for a moment about what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her then and there, that they needn't act. That they could've easily made the plan work- if they were willing to be serious about it. . .willing to-  
  
"We better move it," she interrupted, licking her lips.  
  
Gordo bit his tongue. 


	5. Of Polar Bears and Nuclear Explosions

A/N: Another quick update. Not much else to say really, other than I hope you're all enjoying it =)  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
Miranda wasn't a threat. Gordo had just overreacted. The plan, in Lizzie's opinion was virtually flawless. They just had the task of getting through it. They fought off Kate, easily. Seeing as *that* had been quite a momentous undertaking in the past few years, they had nothing to worry about.  
  
Except one thing.  
  
They walked, no longer holding hands, towards their next class. English. That was simple enough, they just had to be seen together- giggling, flirting, whispering. . .simple expressions that would get all the gossipers talking. Once the story made its way around, complete with a few alterations, as was always expected, it would be smooth sailing.  
  
Except that one little thing. It kept popping up in her mind, mid-thought.  
  
He walked in front of her, navigating a way through the crowd. Not that the back of his head was very attractive, he had a unique little, laid-back- type walk- the back of his head was attractive? She had studied his *walk*?  
  
She shook her head. There it was again. Nagging, interrupting.  
  
Gordo. . .was just Gordo. He wasn't. . .he was a friend who just happened to be helping her out of a tight situation. After all, it was important. She had a whole *four years* of high school ahead. Being tormented throughout those years was not exactly the foremost event she was looking forward to.  
  
"Do you like this whole arrangement?" he asked floatily, turning around to face her for a moment as they walked.  
  
"Excuse me?" she jumped, alarmed by his question.  
  
"I said, do you like that coal assignment?" he repeated more clearly, to her, it seemed.  
  
She shook her head again, trying to remember.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'no' then," he continued, laughing all the while.  
  
"No-" she stammered, "I just thought you said something else".  
  
He turned to look at her again, frowning and almost looking as if he had something to say, but spun around again and moved on.  
  
Lizzie followed him in silence. Perhaps she'd just not slept well- or- or the acoustics. Yes, that sounded right. The acoustics of the hall were bad. That made sense, "acoustics- of course," she mumbled aloud, not meaning for anyone to hear.  
  
"What did you say?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.  
  
"I said, glue sticks. . .of course," she lied, blushing and attempting to quickly move the conversation, "yeah that coal assignment- wow. . .that's a real party there".  
  
Gordo laughed and shook his head.  
  
She liked that. He, among many, was the one that truly *got* her. He understood her and connected on her wavelength. She smiled, knowing he wouldn't see.  
  
The bell rang. Students all around them began to lessen their chatter and sidled into their classes. Lizzie and Gordo were among them, moving as slowly as the crowd was, into English.  
  
There stood Mr. Dig, their regular- their regular substitute teacher. The guy was undoubtedly intelligent in a multitude of fields, but he did have an air of creepiness about him. Not in a bad way, but in a distinctly Mr. Dig way. Lizzie hadn't quite figured him out.  
  
"Class, good to see you all. . .again. . .for what? The forty-second time in a row?" Mr. Dig greeted, smiling in that bizarre way as usual.  
  
Lizzie took up a seat next to Gordo and pulled out her schoolwork. At that moment she clicked, realising she hadn't completed the work that Mr. Dig had set the previous lesson.  
  
Somehow, Gordo knew exactly what she was thinking. Her facial expression was a dead giveaway too.  
  
"Did you finish those synonyms?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, looking at Mr. Dig.  
  
She over at him slightly. He didn't look at her.  
  
It only took seconds for Mr. Dig to scan the class and detect who had not kept up-to-date.  
  
"Ms. McGuire, you're looking- stunned this morning. . ." Mr. Dig began, smiling sarcastically.  
  
"Oh-" she fumbled, opening her book and pretending to find her work. Those few seconds were cleverly designed thinking time, to ensure a safe way out of the situation. . .but they weren't enough.  
  
"Any problems with the work Ms. McGuire?" Mr. Dig persisted.  
  
"Oh, well you know. . ." she smiled, forcing a laugh that came out more like a croak than anything that could be considered one's appreciation for humour.  
  
"Enlighten me," Mr. Dig continued, smiling still, "question twenty-four was a particularly nasty one, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yes sir, I believe it was," she answered, swallowing.  
  
"What, *exactly* did *you* get for that one?" Mr. Dig pushed, looking down at her from the front of the class.  
  
Lizzie froze, she had nothing.  
  
"Any reason why you can't answer, Ms. McGuire?" Mr. Dig carried on, preparing for the final blow.  
  
"I- uh-"  
  
Gordo sprung up to his feet, "Mr. Dig, I haven't completed my work and Lizzie has been stalling for me," he began. The whole class spun around in every direction to see Gordo, "if you don't believe it, I have her work right here, which I was copying as you spoke," he finished, waving the paper with the work on it, for confirmation.  
  
"Mr. *Gordon*?" Mr. Dig stumbled, shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
"It was wrong of me to do that, I know," Gordo finished.  
  
"No- I- I'm just disappointed," Mr. Dig said, not at all sounding like he was disappointed, more as though he was confused.  
  
Lizzie sat watching the whole commotion with her mouth open. Gordo didn't once look at her; that may have jeopardised the circumstances further. Still, the question stood as to why he had saved her.  
  
There were expectations in their agreement: that they would act like a couple in front of the right people; go to the right places; do the right things. . . there was nothing in the agreement about going beyond the call of duty, just to stick to the plan.  
  
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to record this, Mr. Gordon," Mr. Dig said grimly.  
  
Gordo nodded, defeated and sat down.  
  
Lizzie was shocked. Gordo had sacrificed everything he had worked for in the past two years, to save her, from humiliation.  
  
"Gordon, I want to see you after class too," Mr. Dig finished.  
  
Everyone sat in total silence. Some knew *exactly* what they had witnessed, others were totally at a loss.  
  
"Open your books to the page after- whatever we were doing a moment ago," Mr. Dig's voice trailed. To Lizzie, he too seemed shocked.  
  
As soon as Mr. Dig turned around, Lizzie cocked her head to face Gordo, "what did you just do?" she whispered a little loudly.  
  
Gordo looked at her, "it's okay- you can thank me later," he whispered at the same level. Some of the students surrounding the pair laughed.  
  
Mr. Dig turned around, text book in one hand, chalk in the other, "is there something funny about the term *snorkflats*?"  
  
Everyone remained silent.  
  
"Wait-" Mr. Dig continued, "don't answer that".  
  
Lizzie was right. Mr. Dig *was* creepy.  
  
Class progressed as normal throughout the lesson, despite a slight interruption concerning a debate between Mr. Dig, Ethan Kraft and Larry Tudgeman over whether or not a Polar Bear could survive a thermo-sub- atomic, semi-nuclear-fission explosion.  
  
Normally, Lizzie would have hung onto every word that Ethan had to say, but her mind was clouded. Everything seemed distorted. Gordo in trouble. Ethan was concerned for Polar Bears. Mr. Dig discussed odd words. Tudgeman argued astrophysics- well. . . at least Gordo seemed distorted. . .  
  
The bell rang once more, and that meant lunch. She wanted answers from Gordo-  
  
"You've so *totally* got to come and hear this Lizzie!" Miranda squealed at the classroom door, jumping over the crowd, waving her arms about frantically, "this one is BIG!" 


	6. Big News

A/N: Apologies for the lack of updates. No excuse really other than I haven't had time =S Meh. . .here's the next instalment (and the next few should come thick and fast).  
  
--Gordo--  
  
She brushed past him without a care. It was as if he wasn't there at all. Normally, he'd let it go, putting it down to 'teenage-girl-syndrome' or whatever they had- and continued on without much afterthought. But it was different now. The whole plan had been *her* idea and if she wanted it to succeed, he was going to have to make a stand.  
  
"Lizzie!" he proclaimed, rising in the one motion, "we've got to talk".  
  
It was an anti-climax of sorts and from her expression, slightly amusing, but he wasn't phased.  
  
"Seriously, we need to lay down a few rules," he continued.  
  
"Hold that thought," she chimed, waving a little and bopping off toward Miranda, standing stoutly at the door with a smile plastered ear to ear.  
  
He'd heard Miranda bubbling with joy over some 'big news' but that, as always, meant it was not news for him. Not that it saddened him, he just felt out of the loop. But he cheered up; Miranda's news was of little importance, he figured, if it were really important, they would surely tell him.  
  
Mr. Dig raised an eyebrow from the front of the class, examining David Gordon subtly and then watching Lizzie McGuire for moment. It didn't take a genius to understand what kind of connection the pair had going.  
  
"Mr. Gordon. . .I believe you have some- explaining?" Mr. Dig piped up, slipping into scolding-teacher mode.  
  
Gordo had foreseen this moment only in his dreams. Typically, he had a plan and a response ready for the scenario.  
  
"You see-"  
  
"No I don't. Lieing, Mr. Gordon, is beneath you," Mr. Dig interrupted, not as harshly as Gordo had expected.  
  
For an instant, things weren't going to plan, but he decided the only course of action was to 'go with it' and pick up where he left off.  
  
"But that-"  
  
"No, don't lie Gordon, it just doesn't work for you," Mr. Dig interrupted again, smiling all the while.  
  
"You're not exactly giving me a chance to speak the truth, sir," Gordo replied. Being interrupted frequently was starting to get on his nerves.  
  
"No, I'm not. That way you can't lie," Mr. Dig continued, smiling in a very odd way.  
  
"But by that logic, I shouldn't be speaking. . .at all," Gordo answered, confounded by Mr. Dig's tomfoolery.  
  
"Exactly- wait. . .no, I was supposed to punish you- hmmm, don't do it again," Mr. Dig added, continuing to smile oddly.  
  
"Don't do my homework again?" Gordo spluttered, further confused by the already bewildering conversation.  
  
"No! Always do your homework, just don't lie about not doing it- when in actual fact you did do it, but you only lied about not doing so your friend didn't cop any of the flak for having really not done it," Mr. Dig answered quickly, sighing heavily at the end of his little spiel.  
  
Surprising, Mr. Dig wasn't as particularly mystifying as he made himself out to be, "thankyou sir, I'll- uhhh- I'll be more careful next time," Gordo replied awkwardly. He didn't exactly give Mr. Dig much credit in the intelligence department, but obviously there was more to the guy, than a few quirky exteriors.  
  
"Oh and Mr. Gordon, good luck with Ms. McGuire," Mr. Dig added, tapping the end of his nose and collecting a suitcase in one motion. He walked out the door casually, smiling in the same way he had before.  
  
Gordo stood for a moment, absorbing Mr. Dig's peculiar remark.  
  
'. . .good luck with Ms. McGuire,' he remembered. What the *hell* did that mean?  
  
And then it made sense. The realisation was immense. Not a shock, but it started to make sense. He had a good feeling he knew exactly what the 'big news' Miranda had all of a sudden. Not that the thought scared him, it just meant the lie was about to get bigger.  
  
"Lizzie!" Gordo snapped, "we need to talk, right now!"  
  
Miranda and Lizzie weren't around.  
  
A second realisation. Gordo sighed; life was getting that little bit more difficult every minute it seemed.  
  
He walked out of the room and clung onto the doorframe as an old train conductor would, shouting the last call to board, at the passengers assembled on the station. Unfortunately, Hillridge Junior High didn't exactly react to another one of their own, in the same way passengers at a station would to a conductor.  
  
Lizzie wasn't in sight; calling would be in vain. He headed out of the classroom and into the hall, strolling through crowd.  
  
A third realisation. He'd left his books back in the classroom, backpack and all. Of course, it would have been smarter and most probably safer to have returned to collect his equipment as soon as possible, but the crowd in the hall had grown larger. It was lunchtime and no one particularly payed any attention to those whom they were not talking to.  
  
That and Gordo wasn't the tallest, most imposing of guys in the school. Pushing through the crowd was a task in itself; going back would be difficult, if not more so, than it originally had been.  
  
He continued down the hall, shaking his head at his mistake. He wanted to talk to Lizzie. It was more important, as far as he was concerned, than his school supplies.  
  
And then a stroke of luck, Lizzie was sitting on the stairs, not unhappily, but with an air of anxiousness. She fiddled with something in her backpack that Gordo couldn't make out.  
  
In the hustle and bustle of the hall, she stood out like a diamond in the rough. He stood there for a moment, taking her into his eyes.  
  
She stopped for a moment and clasped her hands, looking around. Obviously, he had been detected.  
  
"Let me guess," she said from across the hall, "you want to talk?"  
  
He stifled a laugh and walked around a small congregation of students, towards her.  
  
"News travels fast, huh?" she questioned again, attempting to read his thoughts.  
  
Gordo stopped next to her and crouched, taking a seat on the, surprisingly empty, staircase, "I'm not sure what we're talking about," he said, vaguely knowing where the conversation was going, but not entirely.  
  
"About. . .you know- us?" she asked awkwardly, "everyone's. . .talking. . ."  
  
"What do you mean?" he returned casually, playing dumb.  
  
"Gor-do!" she moaned, "don't make this anymore difficult than it already is".  
  
"Hey, I'm just trying to find out what the deal is," he answered, semi- honestly.  
  
"Well, rumours are flying around that- that we're. . .you know, we're a little more than friends," she said uneasily.  
  
"So?" he asked quietly, moving a little closer to her, "isn't that what you want?"  
  
"Yeah- but- I- you know-"  
  
"Stop saying that!" Gordo interrupted a little too loudly. Some of the other students turned their heads towards the commotion.  
  
"Saying what?" Lizzie whispered, looking around and scowling at the few that had decided to observe the pair.  
  
"Stop saying 'you know' 'cause I really don't know what you're taking about!" Gordo continued.  
  
More students turned to watch, pretending to go about their business; eating lunch, engaging in petty conversation, but really, listening in to Gordo and Lizzie.  
  
"Keep it down!" Lizzie shushed, "you're making a scene".  
  
"Then tell me what's going on. I have a right to know, you kn- just tell me," Gordo retorted.  
  
"Alright, but can we go elsewhere?" she questioned, nodding subtly to Gordo, towards the crowd that had assembled.  
  
"No!" someone called from the back, "this whole trouble in paradise scoop is the bomb!"  
  
Lizzie grabbed Gordo's hand and dragged him out of the hallway. The crowd stood silently, baffled by the goings on of the pair, but strangely intrigued. Lizzie and Gordo walked outside, into the main eatery.  
  
"Well, well!" Kate boomed, "looks like the rumours *are* true!"  
  
Gordo had a funny feeling he was about to find out the *hard* way, just what the news Lizzie had to tell him.  
  
"Lizzie and Gordo?" Kate pointed, attracting the attention of the students eating the lunch, "are a couple. . .how cute err quaint? I'm not sure how we should view *this* one".  
  
"Just mind your own business Kate," Lizzie piped up, rolling her eyes and continuing to drag Gordo away from the commotion.  
  
"Fine, fine," Kate lied, taking a step back, "let's just let the newlyweds have *their* time," and she walked over to her cheerleading table, laughing semi-evilly.  
  
Lizzie shook her head and Gordo stood bemused; that insult was one of the better of Kate's, that he could remember.  
  
"That's one of the better insults Kate has used, that I can remember," he said mindlessly.  
  
"Gordo, this is neither the time or place," Lizzie replied, frustrated and continued to pull him away from the eatery and around a corner to a 'safer' area. Fortunately, few people were around.  
  
"Alright, you want the news? You got it. Everyone thinks we're an item and- and now it's as if we're celebrities- it's a big thing for everyone all of a sudden, so-"  
  
"So it's like we're on a soap-opera?" Gordo interrupted.  
  
"Be serious, just for this one moment, while I try and figure out what our next move is," Lizzie stressed.  
  
"Okay," he replied, "take it easy. Everything you wanted is going to plan. Kate is obviously jealous out of her mind, everyone else wants in on what we talk about, Miranda is playing this out to be 'big news' and hell- even the teachers know," Gordo spoke quickly.  
  
"The teacher's know?" Lizzie asked confusedly.  
  
"Yeah, I think," Gordo replied, remembering what Mr. Dig had said, "look, our next move is the Ball- we just show up and have a good time and no one else is the wiser".  
  
Lizzie threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, "thank you *so* much for this. I knew I could count on you!"  
  
Gordo blushed a little, taken aback from her emotion, "that's- that's ok- ay. . .Lizzie".  
  
"Gordo. . ." Lizzie asked slowly, feeling his back with her hands, "where's your knapsack?"  
  
"Don't go there," Gordo replied coolly. 


	7. Dinnertime

A/N: Yet another chapter =) Hope you guys are all enjoying this one. Let me know either way.  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
"So they'll be here any minute," Jo McGuire said, nodding in appraisal of her own speech.  
  
"Mom- you- but- no- you- how- this can't be happening. . ." Lizzie stuttered.  
  
"I'm so proud of you! My little girl is- is bringing home her first boyfriend and-"  
  
"Mom- this is so NOT happening," Lizzie continued, still shell-shocked by the news her mother had unleashed upon her.  
  
"Lizzie! It's happening and it's going to be great! I *knew* there was something between you and Gordo since- since the fourth grade!" Jo bubbled.  
  
"Mo-om! You promised to never bring that up in conversation ever again!" Lizzie whined.  
  
"Sorry," Jo replied, "now, just get on upstairs, get changed and be as- as gorgeous as always".  
  
"No seriously, the joke is over now," Lizzie said flatly. Frankly, a meet- the-parents scenario wasn't something she was ready for; at least- not at that stage in her life.  
  
"Lizzie we've been over this," Jo urged, being as parent-like as possible, "The Gordon's are coming 'round for dinner. As soon as I found out about you and Gordo, I told Mrs. Gordon and she thought it was great news too, so, we're having this little get together dinner party".  
  
Sometimes, her mother tried so hard to do the right thing that it just didn't work out, "Mom, you don't understand. We're not-"  
  
"Ready for things like this? Neither was I and that's why we're preparing you for things like this hun, besides. . .you and Gordo make a great couple," Jo interrupted, throwing in her own opinion which Lizzie candidly couldn't refute, whether she liked it or not.  
  
She stood there for a moment, mouth open, wide-eyed. A plethora of questions raced through her mind.  
  
What to wear?  
  
What was on the menu?  
  
What were Gordo's parents going to say?  
  
What was Gordo going to say?  
  
How the hell did her mother find out?  
  
She pondered for a moment, the last question and figured it probably had something to do with Kate. Apparently, it was Kate's duty to rain down on Lizzie's life at every possible second available.  
  
"Well come on!" Jo spurred, "get moving, they'll be here soon!"  
  
Lizzie wasn't sure what to answer. Her mother's mind was made up. The plans were made. Everything was set. Nothing could stop the dinner from going ahead.  
  
"Alright," Lizzie caved, lowering her voice, "but Mom, you can't mess in my affairs".  
  
"I won't say anything about you guys," Jo replied easily.  
  
Lizzie wondered how far that statement could go. She began to trek up the staircase slowly, attempting to play out the night in her mind. On all accounts, it seemed this was asking something *truly* big of Gordo, and herself. Regardless, it was set in stone. She would simply have to soldier on.  
  
And that's when the bell rang.  
  
Lizzie spun around, midway up the staircase. It was Gordo and his parents and she wasn't even *slightly* ready. Her father, Sam, had appeared from the lounge and headed to the door. So she raced up the remaining few steps and bolted into her room, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Had she had the time to plan the night, everything would have been laid out perfectly on her bed, so despite how late she was running after showering, doing her hair and generally preparing, her clothing would be selected and ready for use.  
  
On this occasion, she had to scrounge up whatever was at her disposal. Deciding what to wear was more of a ritual than a process. There was the ancient art of narrowing down what was available and then the progression to mixing and matching the various items of clothing, to find the perfect combination, that would appease the God's or in Lizzie's case, her parents and the social dictation of the season.  
  
Fortunately, her best pair of jeans were hung neatly in her closet, which she grabbed along with a blue and white blouse, simplistic in design, but elegant and sophisticated. She changed in seconds flat. Tossing the clothes she had been wearing in various directions.  
  
"Hey," came Gordo's familiar voice from the other side of the door, "are you decent?"  
  
"No," Lizzie replied anxiously, buttoning her blouse, "just wait there".  
  
"What's the plan, McGuire?" Gordo asked coolly. She hated that. They were about to put on a huge 'song and dance' for their parents and there he was, acting as if he hadn't a care in the world.  
  
"Maybe," she began, "you've got something?"  
  
She flicked her hair, starring at the door, waiting for his response.  
  
"I've got an idea, it isn't fantastic, but it's something to go on," he answered slowly.  
  
She immediately became sceptical. If Gordo wasn't confident in his plan, then there was no one that could be, "well. . .what is it?"  
  
"How about the truth- for. . .I mean- like- for ev- how about the truth?" he asked, stumbling over his words and acting rather apprehensively.  
  
She pulled the door towards her slightly, peeking out at him.  
  
"What were you going to say. . .I- I mean really. . .what is it you were. . .you know. . ." she responded hesitantly. She had a feeling- an intuition that he had meant to say something else entirely.  
  
"No! I- yeah- how about we get dinner?" he stuttered, running a hand through his hair.  
  
She preferred not to enter any details, despite being intrigued by his sudden nervousness. It wasn't Gordo. Not the Gordo she knew at least. She decided on saving her questions for later.  
  
"Yeah- yeah umm dinner sounds great," she answered, pulling the door away completely and following him down the stairs.  
  
He stopped at the top of the flight for her, "Lizzie," he began, "I'm glad we're doing this together and not alone".  
  
"Me too," she replied, looking over at him slightly, and then returning her gaze to the ground below them.  
  
They paused for a moment before walking down together, in unison; Lizzie held the handrail and Gordo walked comfortably with one hand in a pocket and the other free.  
  
Their parents caught notice of them and stopped their chatter, focusing their attention on their children, standing side by side at the entrance to the lounge.  
  
"Now there's the happy campers," Sam smiled, motioning over to the pair.  
  
"It's going to be one *long* night," Gordo whispered to Lizzie, out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
"You two look like *such* a couple!" Jo bubbled, smiling proudly.  
  
"One helluva long night," Lizzie whispered to Gordo in response. 


	8. Questions and Answers

A/N: Just another quick update between things. Sorry about my inconsistency of late, I just don't have the time to update as frequently as I used to =( Anyway, here's another one.  
  
xj11: I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not going to answer that question, it might spoil some the story for later on. . . =)  
  
Oh and just a shout to everyone who has left a review =) I honestly appreciate the consistent support from all of you.  
  
--Gordo--  
  
The phone rang, startling no one. Lizzie gave him a quick glance before shooting off and leaving him to the inevitable.  
  
"When did this happen?" his father asked, disturbing the silence. The audience of four parents sat there, waiting, as if they were truly interested in what he had to say.  
  
"Oh you know," he said, "I just went with it". It was the almost perfect answer, short and simple, answering everything *but* the question at hand.  
  
Sam and Jo looked at each other confusedly or with fear, Gordo couldn't tell. His parents on the hand sat quite still; his father stood behind his mother, hand on her shoulder.  
  
"And- and have you guys been together. . .long?" Sam asked nervously.  
  
Gordo looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think back, "oh yeah- I guess you could say that we've been 'together', as you put Mr. McGuire, for some time," he answered, toying with them and playing with his response. Being as vague as possible was the best option. It left the parents with some degree of intelligence on the situation, enough for them to feel safe, but not enough to answer their questions.  
  
Sam and Jo glanced at each other, again, confusedly it seemed, "Gordo, we love you very much and we're really happy for you and Lizzie," Jo spoke hesitantly. She seemed truthful, but still unsure of her own response.  
  
"Thanks," Gordo replied, smiling heartily, "you guys are taking this well. We didn't think this would go down too fantastically with you guys. We appreciate it. I mean, we spoke about this before, but Lizzie was all, 'no, we have to wait for the right time,' and whatnot".  
  
Gordo's parents perused Lizzie's parents casually. They didn't seem too emotional about the situation. Being psychiatrists had removed an element of reaction, it seemed to Gordo at least, when dealing with emotional subjects.  
  
Lizzie popped her head around the corner at just the right moment, "shall we go and get dinner?"  
  
"No honey, we're all having a good chat in here for the moment," Gordo replied, thumbing over to the group of parents.  
  
Lizzie stifled a laugh as she caught a glimpse of her parents, stunned like dead mullets in a fishmonger's market, then followed Gordo's lead, "gotcha darling, I'll just get things set up in the dining room and we should be all set".  
  
Gordo grimaced at Sam and Jo, attempting to hide his own laughter, "yeah so, anymore questions from the press?"  
  
Gordo's parents continued with their same undeviating response to the situation. Sam and Jo were close it seemed to Gordo, to heart attacks. They weren't extremely conservative people, Lizzie's parents, but the display of the so called couple, had blown them out of the water.  
  
"Ready yet?" Lizzie yelled from the dining room.  
  
"Yeah, we'll all be on through any moment!" Gordo answered Lizzie, then returned his attention to the parents, "she's such a sweet wife. . .oops- I mean, she'll be such a sweet wife," he purposely spluttered, smiling all the while at Sam and Jo's speechless reaction, "come on," he continued, "let's get on with dinner".  
  
The parents sidled out the room with mixed expressions. Gordo's parents were unaffected by the exhibition of their son and now- seeming daughter-in- law. Sam and Jo remained silent, shuffling mindlessly into the dining room behind Gordo and his parents.  
  
Lizzie sat on one side of the table, next to Gordo adjacent to Gordo's parents, while Sam and Jo took up opposite positions on either end of the table.  
  
The meal had been prepared by Jo beforehand and Lizzie had dished out the fine collection of baked potatoes, roasted chicken and vegetables. It was one of Jo's very best, but she hadn't gotten over the shock of the last few moments to begin the banter of conversation with something about the meal.  
  
Lizzie and Gordo sat in silence, smiling occasionally at each other in a flirtatious manner, further contributing to the dismay of Lizzie's parents.  
  
Everyone began to eat in the stillness that had befallen the room. Occasionally, there were small engagements of casual chat concerning the passing of various forms of food, but nothing too serious.  
  
As he sat there, Gordo reminisced about the time he had thought about what it would be like actually marrying Lizzie- when he was old enough of course, and what the ensuing plot of events would be, after the pair had announced their want to be wed. He knew the hard bit would only lie in Lizzie's parents.  
  
His own parents would be elated for him and themselves to some extent; the task would revolve around the whole 'meet the parents' fiasco, that so many couples had and would endure, for all time. He knew Sam and Jo, fairly well, but not on the basis where taking their daughter away from them was easy as one, two, three.  
  
"So you guys are probably going to that Summer Ball, right?" Jo piped up, shattering Gordo's train of thought.  
  
"Yes, of course!" Lizzie bubbled, turning sharply to face her mother, "we've got to go looking for a dress and shoes and-"  
  
Sam's face fell into his hands.  
  
"Don't worry Mr. McGuire," Gordo comforted, "this is only a middle-school prom-type thing, the *real* wedding is gonna cost a WHOLE lot more," he finished, smiling and shovelling a piece of chicken into his mouth.  
  
"Lizzie," Gordo's mother spoke up casually, breaking her reserved demeanour, "how were you two going to break all this to us?"  
  
"Oh, I wanted to tell you guys, but Gordo was all, 'no, we have to wait for the right time,' and-"  
  
Everyone looked up from their meals and starred at her for a moment. Gordo kicked Lizzie's leg from under the table, not hard, but in 'stop-what- you're-doing' way.  
  
"I thought you were the one that was waiting for the right time. . ." Gordo's mother continued. Everybody continued to look long and hard at Lizzie, waiting for her response.  
  
"No, that was Gordo," she continued, attempting to sound convinced of what she was saying. Gordo kicked her again, a little harder, rolling his eyes all the while.  
  
Lizzie spun to face Gordo and glared at him, looking as if she had something to say to him, but held her tongue.  
  
At that moment, Sam and Jo became gravely suspicious of what was going on, eyeing each other at opposite ends of the table and nodding slightly.  
  
"What Lizzie *meant* was, that we- yeah we both decided that it was probably best that we wait for the right time," Gordo lied, avoiding eye contact with anyone.  
  
"And have you guys been together long?" Jo asked, throwing out the bait.  
  
"Oh no/yeah," Lizzie and Gordo answered simultaneously, responding respectively in alternate lies. The pair looked at each other and glowered, wide-eyed.  
  
The parents looked at the pair with a mixture of success and intrigue, but said nothing.  
  
"Would you please excuse Gordo and I?" Lizzie asked, to no one in particular.  
  
"Go right ahead kids," Sam spoke, smiling a little across at Jo.  
  
Lizzie grabbed Gordo's forearm, dragged him away from the table and left quickly from the sudden commotion. Gordo didn't resist.  
  
For a moment nothing was said. The parents remained seated, occasionally exchanging glances.  
  
"What about that, huh?" Sam asked when he was sure Lizzie and Gordo had departed.  
  
Everyone focused on him, not following his drift.  
  
"Their first fight," Sam continued, nodding and smiling proudly.  
  
Jo threw a diner bun at Sam and sighed. The Gordon's began to chuckle. 


	9. Just imagine it

A/N: Getting them out as quickly as possible, as requested =) Hope you're all enjoying it.  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
She pulled him all the way to the house door, opening quickly and pushing him out, following and closing the door in a single motion. Without any training or rehearsal, it was an impressive display.  
  
But that wasn't her focus for the moment.  
  
She stood there on the front step, silhouetted almost perfectly, hands on her hips. Had she not been so aggravated by Gordo, her parents and the increasing pressure their relationship was causing, she may have reflected on the tranquillity of the night.  
  
Just how far did Gordo think this was supposed to go?  
  
"Gordo-" she spluttered, frustrated, "what's going on?"  
  
"Hey, I'm just going with it McGuire," he replied coolly, raising his hands in defence and propelling himself backward slightly, "this was your plan. . .I'm just playing my little part in it".  
  
"Yes but lieing to our *parents* wasn't in the plan," Lizzie interjected, throwing him a look of antipathy, "not like that at least".  
  
"Then exactly how did you think we were going to pull this one past them?" he replied, narrowing his brow and standing firm.  
  
Checkmate. She knew he had her there.  
  
They both stopped for a moment. An observer probably would have guessed they were a couple, acting the way they were. Nothing was said for some time, they continued to look each other over.  
  
As much as she hated it, he was right. This was her plan and she was starting to lose control of it.  
  
"Gordo- don't point out the bleeding obvious to me when I'm clearly in a state of panic," she riposted.  
  
He fumbled with hands, intertwining them and fiddling, "well. . ."  
  
"No," she said slowly, "I'm sorry".  
  
He looked at her sharply, taken aback but not displeased. Neither of them could face the other. Perhaps it was the feeling, all of a sudden, that a 'moment' was coming on.  
  
And then she remembered the phone call. It would suffice to avoid anything awkward.  
  
"Gordo, Miranda's gone. She called before dinner and- and now she's not here and yeah- she's gone- for good," Lizzie spieled, becoming more emotional.  
  
Gordo chuckled softly, "you make it sound so final, like she's going for the whole summer or something".  
  
"Gordo," Lizzie replied seriously, looking up slightly, "she IS going for the whole summer".  
  
"Ouch," he answered softly, knowing full well what that meant for Lizzie.  
  
He *was* her best friend, but he wasn't a girl like Miranda. He couldn't relate to her on every single level like Miranda could, in some instances at least.  
  
A pause again struck them both. Lizzie desperately tried to avoid the lulls in conversation, they would simply compound the 'moment'.  
  
"Look- I say we keep this out of our parents' view. . .we just pretend we're together in front of the right people at the right times," Lizzie spoke up, raising a hand to her forehead and massaging herself lightly.  
  
"But they already know. . .well- they know something's up," Gordo pointed out.  
  
"All we have to do is dodge their questions or- or their snooping. We need to put them on the back foot again, somehow," Lizzie pondered.  
  
Gordo looked up at the roof and spoke, "that's pretty damn good McGuire, you'd be a good spy".  
  
Lizzie shot him a look of misunderstanding, "what?"  
  
"A spy Lizzie, a spy. You seem too good at all this- this espionage and lies and such," he continued, returning his gaze to her briefly and then onto something else quickly.  
  
"Gordo, we're dealing with our parents. . .it's not exactly the Cold War," she answered sarcastically.  
  
He laughed and shook his head, "and being a spy and all would make you a good- a good dancer, right?"  
  
Lizzie cocked her head slightly, lowering a brow, "and what makes you think spies are good dancers?" she asked, "wait. . .should I be more concerned that you think spies are good dancers or that you keep pulling random things out of the air?"  
  
Surprisingly, he laughed again. She hadn't had this much fun with him, in a long time. He was relaxed, she was relaxed; they weren't pretending or posing in front of anyone, they were just being the regular old friends they had been.  
  
"Well, you see, in all those old movies, spies *always* know how to dance," he replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"And suddenly you start believing everything that happens in movies?" Lizzie questioned sardonically.  
  
"Hey, I figure we're acting most of the time these days- it can't be far off from reality," Gordo replied with ironic cynicism.  
  
"Well- fair enough. . .but I still don't see the connection," she said, stepping forward and off the step, level with him.  
  
"We've got that Ball to go to and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me a few pointers- about dancing, not spying- so that we could. . .you know. . .dance on the night," he answered.  
  
Lizzie began to giggle hysterically, "is that what all that was about?"  
  
Gordo avoided looking at her.  
  
"Oh!" she noticed, "Gordo, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to laugh. . .it was just an odd way of bringing it up".  
  
He nodded slowly and continued to look away, "yeah- yeah I guess it was".  
  
They both paused in silence.  
  
Lizzie wasn't usually the adventurous type, especially around those whom she felt strangely awkward with, especially in instances where she might be alone with said persons.  
  
"Look," she began, "why don't I show you right now?"  
  
Gordo looked up at her strangely, screwing his face up in disbelief.  
  
"It's my turn to be- spontaneous and random, Gordo," she giggled, "come on, what do you say?"  
  
"How can I say 'no' to dancing with my best friend in the street, at dinnertime, where we're sure to have people question our sanity?" Gordo answered jokingly.  
  
She laughed and grabbed his hand instinctively.  
  
It would have been alright, between the pair, had she suddenly not stopped laughing. There they were, standing on the McGuire front lawn, holding hands and looking at each other oddly.  
  
"Well- it's- it's real simple. . .we're doing a slow dance, by the way. . .all you have to do is put your hand here," she began nervously, placing his hand on her hip, "and take my hand, raising up to shoulder level," she continued, demonstrating further, "and let me rest my free hand here on your opposite shoulder," she concluded, following through with what she had said.  
  
They continued to stand there in the dimmed light of the house door, starring into one another's eyes.  
  
"Now- now just step left two-three, right two-three in a sort of circular pattern. . .and. . ." Lizzie trailed off, forgetting exactly what she had to say.  
  
"So- s- we just- and there'd be music, right?" Gordo asked with a dry throat.  
  
"Just imagine it," she whispered softly.  
  
And they did, dancing slowly in the eerie light, without accompaniment or onlookers to criticise. Neither of the pair said a thing; nothing could be said, they were both lost in the moment. Everything she had been trying to avoid only moments before was now happening right on her front lawn. . .and she didn't want it to stop.  
  
A/N: Just so no one has a conniption, I don't dance or know the first thing about it; I don't pretend to know so don't go crazy about my ever so lame description of, and about the interaction between, Lizzie and Gordo's dance. Quite simply, I don't know and haven't researched it (but I will. . .).  
  
And just as a little aside, this was *originally* the point at which I was going to end this story, it's got closure to some extent- I'm still wondering whether I should continue. I do have plenty more I could add, but I guess we'll see. 


	10. Hall Runner

A/N: Alright I'm heeding the demands of my faithful reviewers! I'll continue with this one. As I said in the last chapter, there's plenty more opportunity to go on and make this one something big, I just don't have the time these days. But we'll see how it goes!  
  
--Gordo--  
  
The gentle rhythm of the car, as it shook slightly on the way home was irritating. He wanted to go to sleep; to relive what had just happened. He'd danced, and ever so properly, with Lizzie McGuire, on her front lawn, in the lateness of the night, under a spell she had cast upon him.  
  
Gordo wasn't the die hard romantic, but what he had engaged in with Lizzie was truly memorable, despite sounding soppy and overindulgent.  
  
And why did it not feel wrong?  
  
Throughout the whole dance he didn't once let his head play politics. His heart led the way, it seemed; and he didn't hate it.  
  
But surely it wasn't the right thing to be doing!  
  
His head had woken up; the true impact of what had happened was soaking in. Not that he had committed any illegal, wrong-doing; he had simply crossed the boundary of friendship... and something else entirely.  
  
His parents sat in the front of the car, his father in the driver's seat, and his mother in the passenger seat, briefly discussing some of the topics they had clearly been conversing over, with the McGuire's. To Gordo, it was odd, that they hadn't begun to grill him with questions concerning his 'relationship' with Lizzie.  
  
There was only one thing to do.  
  
"Are you guys okay with this?" he spoke up; he had decided he wasn't going to get any sleep and had best make use of the time available, after all, his parents weren't exactly often around due to their commitments at work.  
  
"What are you referring to darling?" his mother replied, knowing full well what he was talking about.  
  
"Mo-om... I'm talking about Lizzie and me... what do you think? Are you alright with it?" he forced himself to persist.  
  
There was a pause. Neither of the Gordon parents seemed to want to tackle the question.  
  
"It's not that it's important or some big deal or anything. I just wanted to know if you had any concerns," Gordo continued, spurring them on and waiting for a reply.  
  
The car pulled up into the Gordon's driveway with ease. The power-steering in his father's new car was evident, but simply an aside to Gordo. It was as if his parents were... dodging the question.  
  
"Go on up and get the house opened up," his father ordered with out menace, but more with a tone of the defeated.  
  
Gordo was reluctant to leave; the sudden change of subject was a trifle odd. As he left the car, he noticed that his parents were seemingly, not moving, or willing to move. It struck him as odd, but he continued and exited the car, walking up the short path to the front door, keys in hand.  
  
They sat there, in the car, discussing and gesturing between one another. There was nothing he could do, he had tried before to listen into their conversations, but somehow they always picked up on his presence. He had learnt quickly because of that, that he would never be a spy.  
  
At that moment of standing in retrospect, the phone rang within the house.  
  
He fumbled with the keys. There would only be one person that would have the audacity to ring at such a late hour.  
  
There weren't many keys on the key-ring, but the one's that were there, were all *very* similar and in a situation of haste, they made for difficult door opening.  
  
He panicked as the rings continued, shoving the front door key into the keyhole and twisting, shoving the door inwards and jumping inside the house. He skidded onto the hall runner and slipped for a few metres down to the kitchen, impacting with a thud into the side of a counter, where a cordless handset jumped and squealed above.  
  
His hand emerged slowly and painfully from the ground, feeling around for a moment before collecting the crème coloured receiver, which promptly clicked once and thrust to his ear.  
  
"Gordo?" Lizzie's voice bubbled, a mixture of impatience and relief.  
  
He mumbled incoherently in reply, still feeling the effects of crashing into the house.  
  
"OH! Mt. Gordon?" she asked again, sounding rather embarrassed.  
  
"Nooo," he muttered, drawing out his response, "it's me... what's up?"  
  
She relaxed again, "I- uhhh- I was just calling..."  
  
"For...?" he continued for her, waiting for the completion of her sentence.  
  
"For no reason- I mean- for toni-" she stuttered hesitantly, jumping, obviously, around the true motive for calling.  
  
"Lizzie, just tell me whatever it *is*, that's on your mind," he urged, in a combination of tiredness and painfulness.  
  
"Okay," she strengthened, sounding confident, "I just wanted to thank you for tonight... I didn't get to thank you... and I really wanted to *thank you*... but... yeah- I- I didn't and..." she trailed off.  
  
They both paused for a moment.  
  
"Thank you... too, Lizzie- *thank you*" he said slowly.  
  
He raised himself off the ground and began to stumble around, searching for the lights, holding the cordless phone to his ear, and waiting for her response.  
  
"I guess... we'll- I mean I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she asked indecisively.  
  
"Yeah- school tomorrow... oh shoot! It's yearbook signing tomorrow, right?" Gordo exclaimed, finding the light switch in the same realisation. The kitchen became illuminated and the assessment of the destruction from the front door to the counter was evident.  
  
"Oh my gosh!" Lizzie jumped, "I've... I'll see you tomorrow," she hesitated, before hanging up and ending their conversation.  
  
"Goodnight," he said to no one; she had gone before giving him the chance to answer her.  
  
There was only one thing bigger than photo day, and that was yearbook day, marking the end of the actual school year. Graduation day was looming and in turn, so was the Summer Ball.  
  
He dropped the cordless phone onto the receiver in the kitchen and began to straighten the hall runner, wondering at the same time, how the next day was going to proceed.  
  
They had actually found something, and he was sure of it, seeing as she had called him 'just to say thanks' only minutes beforehand. Perhaps she was inadvertently revealing something to him.  
  
Did she feel the same way?  
  
He shook his head, picking up a small chair and levelling it all the while. It wasn't possible that this whole fiasco had opened her eyes to anything. What would make the whole 'fake relationship' any better at showing her how he felt than anything else he had done?  
  
His parents walked in the already open door and surveyed the situation but withheld any questions. They believed their son to be an intelligent lad.  
  
"Whatever it is you're doing," his father said.  
  
"We're behind you, one-hundred-per-cent," his mother finished and the pair walked up the stairs in silence.  
  
Gordo smiled and continued to clean up the mess in the hall. He wasn't sure all the time, exactly what his parents were on a about. They always seemed to have loaded questions and double agendas, but this time... he felt he knew *exactly* what they were telling him. 


	11. The Yearbook

A/N: Not much to say really... here's the next instalment.  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
It meant nothing until she cradled it in her arms. The yearbook. The last documented material of her life and times in middle school. Photographs of classmates she knew well and images of complete and utter randoms. It was a mixture of the good and the bad.  
  
The line was long. The wait was going to be a while.  
  
She had made particular note once, of Gordo's resent of the whole yearbook idea. Apparently, to him, it symbolised a fashion parade and 'posers'. Still, this was the very same guy who had, at one stage, attempted to set a record for most yearbook photos.  
  
Someone pushed her in the small of her back, causing her to inadvertently jump forward.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry! Weren't you aware of the 'cheerleaders before losers' law?" Kate Sanders asked shrewdly,  
  
Lizzie faltered, surprised by Kate's sudden approach, "no, I- I didn't get that memo".  
  
Kate's eyes bulged, "you had SO better watch yourself McGuire, you have no-  
  
"-idea who I'm dealing with?" Lizzie finished Kate's sentence, smiling sarcastically all the while. The few students behind and in front of the pair, who had been listening in secret, tittered softly.  
  
"You better hope you show your face at the Ball with Gordo, I mean, that *would* be social suicide," Kate spat. She always went as low as possible, to get the final blow in.  
  
"Oh we'll be there," Lizzie retorted, with less style than she had before.  
  
Kate pulled a face of utter admonishment and began to shove her way through the crowd. Lizzie shook her head defiantly and returned to waiting in line.  
  
There had been some new fee instituted. Something, Lizzie remembered, to do with hard cover yearbooks as opposed to the regular old plastic covered ones. It was a step for the best, she had thought. The yearbook was a valuable record of an important part of her life.  
  
The line shuffled forward like an eight-items or less grocery store queue.  
  
She peered over her neighbour's shoulder and attempted to glimpse the commotion at the table distributing the yearbooks, but that was no easy task considering the height of the young man in front of her.  
  
"Uh, have you seen them yet?" she asked, not realising whom she was speaking with.  
  
"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!" the lad said, spinning around and smiling.  
  
"Ethan..." she answered unsteadily, "how are- things?"  
  
"Mui, mui, good, my fine lady friend," he continued. She wondered, for a moment, whether or not he knew what he was saying, but thought better of asking about it.  
  
"That's- that's good..." she replied awkwardly, "so- got a date for that big Ball, coming up?"  
  
"Whoa there!" he jumped, raising his hands in defence, "I thought we went over this last spring or something".  
  
Lizzie blushed crimson, "oh right- of course! Not that I was- I mean you and I are just friends and-"  
  
"and like, the word I heard going around," he interrupted, "is that you and the Gor-don are like two peas in a pipe!" he finished, clicking his tongue and winking for good measure.  
  
"Two peas in a pod, Ethan, pod..." she corrected, sighing softly.  
  
"Pod? Isn't that a band or something?" he asked, dumbfounded by her last response, "you see Lizzie, that's why we just don't work... we ain't on the same... what's that word?"  
  
"Wavelength?" she added, shrugging her shoulders.  
  
"No, we're talking about you and me, Lizzie, not surfing- come on, keep up with me here!" he stressed, shaking his head.  
  
"Lizzie!" Gordo called from somewhere in the rear of the line. She breathed heavily in relief, the conversation with Ethan was clearly about to lower her intelligence in one way or another.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, it's the Gor-don!" Ethan pointed, "you probably got some stuff to do with him, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, uh, right... yeah- stuff... that's it," Lizzie broke off, smiling uncomfortably and stepping out of line.  
  
"Laters, Lizzie, see *you* on the flip side!" Ethan called goofily, as she walked away.  
  
Amongst the slight movement and whirl of conversation surrounding her, it became apparent to her that she'd just made a grave mistake. In the world of teenage schooling, stepping out of line means one has lost one's spot permanently.  
  
She rolled her eyes and began to head towards the direction of Gordo's voice and Ethan's general pointing. Fortunately, Gordo popped up a small book and waved slowly, to attract Lizzie's attention. She noticed the signal and moved to him, passing through the line and disgruntling only a few students.  
  
"I got them," he said coolly, brandishing a yearbook in each hand, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"But I thought- I was- I thought you weren't going to get one," Lizzie stammered, confused by his sudden change of attitude to the yearbooks, "and how did you get them so fast? And how did you get *two*?"  
  
Gordo continued smiling, handing her one of the attractive looking books. On the front was printed, in gold lettering 'Hillridge Junior High – Class of 2002'.  
  
She admired the text for a moment, "Miranda would've liked this," she said slowly.  
  
"See that's the thing..." Gordo began, looking around uneasily.  
  
"Oh great, Gordo- just great," Lizzie answered, realising what he was insinuating.  
  
"Yeah well, she asked me to pick up hers and she left me the money and it would've looked strange buying three and using three different explanations," he rambled, trying to convince her, but failing dismally.  
  
"So I'm going to have to line up... again, right?" she asked with dread.  
  
"No, no!" he bubbled, "have this one, I'll just go and buy another one".  
  
"Awww, Gordo," she caved, sighing and smiling at him, "thanks".  
  
"Just mind my stuff while I go hop in line," he called, walking towards the end of the queue once more.  
  
There she stood, off to the side of the bustling slow-but-steady rush for yearbooks, near Gordo's locker. And then it hit her. She had two yearbooks and would, undoubtedly, have to sign his at one point, so taking advantage of the opportunity presenting itself, was more than logical.  
  
She opened the book, flicking past the rigmarole of usual 'best ofs' and then the typical class portraits, to the end, where space had been conveniently provided for those who wished to write messages of good will to one another.  
  
And there it was, printed in his hand writing.  
  
"Oh... my... Gordo..." she gasped, reading the text and comprehending exactly what was before her.  
  
She closed the book and looked around, before shaking her head. 


	12. The Dress

A/N: Just another one I was able to put together today. Enjoy it =) Honestly, I'm going as fast as time permits.  
  
--Gordo--  
  
He walked with her. It was only days away now. This, he had been told, was the most intricate part of the whole prom-type fiasco- the dress. Usually, it was a mother-daughter thing, but Jo McGuire had insisted that Gordo come along; what with the pair of them now being a 'couple'.  
  
Gordo went with it, as he always did. Lizzie had explained in her room, prior to arriving at the boutique, that she was going to make 'all' of it up to him, somehow. He had heard it all before however, on many, many occasions.  
  
Jo scoped out what was available. Gordo had expected Lizzie would have been far more excited, but she wasn't. She had seemed almost distant.  
  
"Gordo, you're wearing a bluish-navy tie, aren't you?" Jo asked, grazing over three very similar dresses.  
  
"Uh- yeah, I think that's what I'll be wearing..." he replied, scratching at his ear.  
  
"No, no," Jo urged, handing the shop assistant a bundle of blue dresses, "we can't have these".  
  
Gordo wondered for a moment, who he was taking to the Ball.  
  
"Lizzie!" Jo bubbled, spying a slender black number, "come quick, look at this one!"  
  
She looked at him for a moment and sighed, refusing to acknowledge that her mother was doing the shopping for her, "yeah- it looks fine... let's take it".  
  
"Lizzie, you didn't even look at it," Jo replied with disdain, sighing at the dress she had found.  
  
"Mom- look, it's like you're shopping for you and-"  
  
"And how many Balls have you been too?" Jo interjected condescendingly.  
  
"Well... only a few..." Lizzie lied. Gordo looked at her with scepticism, "alright, alright- I haven't been to *any*," she caved.  
  
"Yeah and who's paying for this dress, again?" Jo asked, patronizing her daughter in such a way, that only the pair of them would find it acceptable. Gordo continued to watch the engagement with increasing interest.  
  
"Alright mom, you've made your point," Lizzie surrendered, "but can't I *at least* have some input on what I get to wear?"  
  
"You have got input," Jo answered with out looking at her, "input on the dresses I pick out," she continued, glancing to smile at her.  
  
Lizzie rolled her eyes and tugged Gordo's shirt at the elbow, "See, *this* is why girl's lives are harder".  
  
Gordo opened his mouth, then quickly closed it, noticing the scorn on her face. This was neither the time nor place, it seemed to him, to get into *that* debate.  
  
"Just wait here Gordo, while I get Lizzie to try on these ones," Jo instructed, motioning to him, a collection of dresses. He nodded in reply and watched at the two women disappeared into the fitting rooms.  
  
He looked around for a moment, feeling quite awkward and walked for a few paces, in the opposite direction to Lizzie and her mother. The shop was after all, a women's fine clothing emporium. No matter how he looked it, the situation was uncomfortable. There, in the middle of hundreds of dresses of different shapes, sizes and colours, stood a thin young man, hands in his pockets, with a glazed facial expression.  
  
It wasn't unseemly and hardly anyone in the store noticed but nevertheless, he felt discomfited by the whole scenario. For some reason, when he stood with Lizzie, the thought had never crossed his mind. Unless that meant something else.  
  
"It means nothing Gordon, nothing at all," he answered himself aloud, again. He would have given himself a slight slap to the forehead, but that *would* appear odd to the passer-by.  
  
He spun around again and was quite unexpectedly, met by Lizzie.  
  
"So?" she asked, bending one knee over the other, in a very flirtatious manner.  
  
Gordo stood for a moment, absorbing the glorious young woman before him. She was, in a word, flawless. The dress hung from her shoulders by straps, ever so naturally, and hugged her body with a most unbelievable style. She continued to stand there, awaiting his response. He speculated in that moment, whether not the dress had been tailored for her.  
  
"Hel-loooo?" she asked, drawing out her question in an attempt to bring him back to reality.  
  
"Your mom sure knows how to pick a dress..." he breathed mindlessly, still engrossed in Lizzie.  
  
"Gor-do!" she glared, "but I guess, you're right... it does fit nicely," she ended, changing her tone and accepting his comment.  
  
He examined her once more, noticing that the dress was without sleeves and showed a considerable amount of shoulders, which were smooth and soft. Without a doubt, Lizzie was a gorgeous young woman, but the dress only magnified her features and contributed to making her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.  
  
Jo appeared from the fitting rooms, "so, what's the verdict?"  
  
"I like it..." she began, then thumbed at Gordo, smiling all the while, "he *looks* like he likes it..."  
  
Jo and Lizzie giggled at Gordo's astounded expression upon having observed Lizzie in the dress.  
  
"Well... I like it, so I guess we'll take it," Jo said to a clerk passing by, who nodded and motioned for Lizzie to move back into the changing room.  
  
Gordo blushed a shade of crimson, "I- yeah I wa- has anyone told you, you're really good at picking out dresses, Mrs. McGuire?"  
  
Jo laughed.  
  
The pair paused for a moment, in an awkward silence. Jo fiddled with some dresses which were quickly collected by another shop assistant.  
  
"So..." she began, "how'd you get pulled into this Gordo?"  
  
"Pulled into what?" he asked, confused slightly by the new direction of the conversation.  
  
"I don't really know about sons, as of yet, but my daughter tells me absolutely *everything*..." she replied, looking at him, "and this whole idea of you two suddenly together, was kind of- you know- sprung on us... well me at least... so I figure that something is up".  
  
Gordo hadn't given the woman enough credit. Admittedly, she was one the inside of Lizzie's thoughts, to some degree, but it seemed to him, that she was the only person that had figured out what was going on between Lizzie and himself.  
  
"You know, don't you?" he asked flatly.  
  
"I have my suspicions," Jo smiled.  
  
Lizzie returned from the fitting room, once more, dressed in the apparel she had been before. The shop clerk produced a small white box and folded the dress neatly into it.  
  
"So... you really like it?" Lizzie asked, as the usual rigmarole of the exchange of money and signing of papers happened between Jo and the clerk.  
  
"You're beautiful," he blurted out accidentally. As soon as he had realised what he'd said, she was blushing.  
  
"Gordo... tha-" but she had no opportunity to finish her sentence. Another, less graceful, clerk rushed behind Lizzie, knocking her forward and into Gordo's arms.  
  
Jo spun around for a brief moment, annoyed by the long process of purchasing the dress, to see the pair in each other's arms, "oh get a *room*, you two... for heaven's sake, we're in public," she scolded, then turned to the clerk once more, rolling her eyes all the while, "kids these days".  
  
The pair stood for a moment, alarmed by the situation. Lizzie panicked more and pulled herself away quickly, "I'm sorry!" she apologized, brushing the front of her skirt.  
  
"No, no, I'm sorry!" he returned, raising his arms in defence.  
  
For the rest of the day, they both avoided all shop clerks.  
  
A/N: I know, I know, nothing about the yearbook... just give me time and all shall be revealed =) I know... nasty, aren't I? =) 


	13. The Night is Young

A/N: Yikes! Can't believe how many people are getting into this =) Thanks to all who reviewed, it's good to know I'm not just writing this for me.  
  
--Lizzie--  
  
Was she ready for it? Probably not. Everything about the forthcoming night seemed so... so different from how it was supposed to. Not that she wasn't looking forward to getting dressed up, the dancing and partying; if anything, the very prospect of such things was exciting, in the very least.  
  
Still, she remained feeling uncomfortable, standing and staring at her reflection, swaddled in a set of matching towels around her hair and body. She was still a little wet after having showered, but thought nothing of it. In the mirror she could she the replicated image of her clothing, laid out on the bed.  
  
'Your mom sure knows how to pick a dress...' Gordo's voice floated in her mind. She shook her head.  
  
He hadn't been as eloquent about commenting on how she looked, as she had hoped. Just a sign -anything would have sufficed really- that gave away more to his thoughts, than meets the eye.  
  
She looked at her reflection coldly.  
  
What on earth was she thinking? Did she *want* Gordo to- to like her? Did she *want* Gordo to have said something more? Did she *want* Gordo?  
  
"I always knew girls took a while to get ready before a big night out, but this- this a little ridiculous..." came a voice from the doorway.  
  
She spun around, still quite scantily clad, "GOR-DO!" she squealed, blushing a shade of crimson that even Crayola hadn't yet found.  
  
He chuckled, "easy, easy... I'll just wait downstairs," he replied, raising his hands in defence.  
  
Fortunately for his sake, he closed the door in time, just as a muffled thud against the door emanated from her throw of a pillow.  
  
She sighed, it was a close call, in more ways than one. The tension of the moment had gone however, and she was thankful.  
  
"Didn't he know that it's bad luck to see me before..." she said aloud, stopping in mid sentence, "wait that's weddings". She was thankful, perhaps even more so than before, that no one had heard *that*.  
  
She moved quietly over toward the bed, towelling off on the way. She followed her usual process, fitting her undergarments properly and then, finally, slinking into her new dress. It was undoubted, her mother had a knack for picking the right items of clothing for the right situation. It didn't bother Lizzie that her mother was so good at it, rather, she appreciated it, yet preferred to channel her approval and admiration of her mother in other ways.  
  
After all, there had been that time, where she tried to treat her mother as a 'friend', first and a mother, second. In short, the arrangement did not work out.  
  
One thought led to another; unfortunately, it led back to Gordo. What was he now? She couldn't remember. He wasn't quite a friend and at the same time, he wasn't quite her- her significant other. She was lost, or more correctly, he was lost in her mind.  
  
Of course, he would know *exactly*, he always did, what the answer was to the whole thing, but she wasn't prepared to even test the water in *that* pool.  
  
The trouble, she thought as she began to apply some make-up to her face, was somewhere lying between her hidden signals to him, and his reading of those signals. Countless people had suspected that there was *more* to Gordo and Lizzie's relationship than what appeared on the surface. The whole fake relationship she had concocted, with his help, exploited that very knowledge, even if it was a lie.  
  
But the fact remained, she had tried so hard to fight what she felt, for so long, that whatever feeling she had for him, dug in deeper.  
  
"Lizzie!" Jo called from downstairs, "it's getting really late".  
  
"Coming mom!" she yelled in reply, tilting her head slightly to attach her favourite earrings, the ones her mother had given her on her very first date.  
  
She quickly looked herself up and down in the mirror once more, this time, ready to stop traffic and stopped mid thought. Her body turned to face the direction of her dresser and her hands felt across the top in search of something.  
  
Eventually, after much clinking and knocking over small bottles, she retrieved a frosted glass bottle of perfume, which she consummately showered herself with elegantly. It was, to her knowledge and observations, Gordo's favourite.  
  
"Why did you do that?" she asked herself in the mirror.  
  
"Oh I think we both know," Jo blurted out accidentally.  
  
Lizzie spun around, glaring at her mother, "and what exactly, does that mean?"  
  
Jo shook her head and smiled, "my little baby is growing up!"  
  
Lizzie made a mental of note, of not *ever* under any circumstances, saying those words to her own daughter.  
  
"Thanks mom," she replied flatly.  
  
"Honestly honey, you look-" but Jo couldn't finish her sentence, tears of sheer joy welled in her eyes.  
  
"Mom?" Lizzie asked confusedly, "what's- I don't get..."  
  
Jo removed her glasses and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from Lizzie's bedside table, "you have a *fantastic* night, you hear?"  
  
"I- I will mom," Lizzie replied hesitantly.  
  
Jo opened her arms in the universal fashion that everyone recognised. Lizzie walked semi-reluctantly, semi-joyfully over to her mother and embraced her.  
  
The pair walked downstairs, Jo in lead. Sam and Gordo stood, arms folded, engaged in a conversation that appeared to be of considerable importance. Lizzie rolled her eyes at the thought of what her father had so 'wisely' chosen to educate Gordo upon.  
  
All eyes however, fell upon Lizzie. Gordo literally shook his head in disbelief. Lizzie, on all accounts, was a truly pretty girl; but with a few moments and time to prepare, she transformed herself into strikingly beautiful young woman.  
  
She draped her hand on the banister and slid slowly down, locking her gaze with his. As she dropped from the final step to the floor, they both stood, without words to say to one another.  
  
In her eyes, he wasn't exactly Brad Pitt, but that, for some reason, didn't matter. All those years of staying up late with Miranda, discussing which celebrity they most wanted to marry suddenly seemed incredibly lame. In the flesh he stood, suave in strictly trademark, Gordo-esque kind-of-way. To the average passer-by, he was just- just Gordo. To her- he was perfect.  
  
Aesthetically, he too had reformed and she noticed. His choice of suit was exactly to her liking and she showed it, placing her hands on the folding trim of his jacket, "you look- really handsome," she whispered, forgetting the presence of her parents, who were now, arm in arm, reliving their own memories.  
  
"And you look- absolutely gorgeous," he replied breathlessly.  
  
She looked up into his eyes, "do you mean that?"  
  
"You've got no idea," he answered softly.  
  
They probably would have stayed they way all night had the limousine outside not honked, startling them.  
  
"We-"  
  
"Yeah we better," Lizzie interrupted, swallowing and waving to her parents.  
  
"You two be back soon!" Sam called as they rushed out the door, hand in hand.  
  
Jo slapped Sam on the arm softly, "let them go..."  
  
A/N: Yeah, a wishy-washy mumsy/daughter chapter. Meh. I felt it was constituted. In the show Lizzie seemingly has a very well constructed relationship with her mum, so if anything, I'm only emulating the characters from the show =D 


	14. End of the Act

A/N: Okay... I'm ready for my public hanging D= Yeah I know. I made one HUGE mistake; I only noticed TONIGHT that I hadn't added the final chapter for this story. Trust me; I've been kicking myself for having left it for so long. I could have sworn that I completed this, but... I haven't. So, a million apologies to everyone. I really dropped the ball on this one =( But, as they say... 'better late, than never'. So if you'd all bear with me, here we go, one last time...  
  
--Gordo--  
  
"This is it," he whispered, still clutching her hand. He realised that his hand had become cold and clammy; a sign of nervousness. Her hand was probably the same, but he could not tell. Frankly, he didn't care anymore. He was holding the hand of the girl he treasured and for the first time, in the many, many years of their friendship, it felt right.  
  
"This is it, alright," she nodded, swallowing and avoiding his gaze, "sha- shall we?"  
  
He squeezed her hand gently and nodded, "I'm with you one hundred per cent, McGuire".  
  
They lurched forward, pushing the doors to the hall inwards. Before them was their graduating class, intermingled with one another; some in small groups, others seated at tables around the almost empty dance floor.  
  
The DJ on the opposite end of the room seemed to be the only one enjoying himself, mixing and fading a song Gordo couldn't quite remember the name of.  
  
A young lad behind a small counter, cleared his throat, "tickets?" he asked, gaining the immediate attention of the pair.  
  
Lizzie glanced at Gordo, passing him the signal.  
  
He looked back at her questioningly.  
  
She narrowed her brow.  
  
He panicked, quickly fishing his hands into his pockets and sorting through tissues and notes of varying monetary values.  
  
Lizzie looked down at the boy behind the desk and smiled awkwardly. The boy rolled his eyes and sighed.  
  
Gordo continued to pat at various pockets on his suit before promptly realising the location of the tickets and subsequently produced the pairs' tickets from within his right sock.  
  
The boy tried hard to be disgusted by the tickets Gordo was handing over, but it was clear, that wasn't the first time he had had to deal with sock tickets, "thank you," he muttered, stamping their tickets hurriedly.  
  
Gordo grabbed them from the table, when the boy was done, and stored the tickets in his inner breast pocket.  
  
Lizzie glared once more, in Gordo's direction.  
  
"What?" he protested weakly, "that's where your dad told me to put them".  
  
"Figures," Lizzie remarked snidely, "wait-" she realised, remembering back to Gordo's conversation with her father, she had observed, "was that what you two were talking about, while we were home?"  
  
Gordo nodded, "why?"  
  
Lizzie shook her head, walking ahead of him, clutching her evening bag.  
  
"I'm only guessing, but I think he's had trouble with such a situation before..." Gordo added.  
  
She stopped and looked over her shoulder with a wry smile, "and what makes you think that?"  
  
"That's- that's pretty much all he spoke about," he finished, nodding sympathetically.  
  
Lizzie rolled her eyes and nodded sympathetically as well, turning all the while and walking slowly ahead again. Gordo walked beside her casually, hands in his pockets.  
  
"What have we here?" a familiar voice floated. Lizzie instinctively grabbed hold of Gordo's arm.  
  
"Awww... such a sweet little scene..." Kate patronised.  
  
"And your date is- where?" Lizzie jumped, noticing that Kate was alone. Gordo smiled, that trademark Gordo smile.  
  
"He's- you- he's- he's over there!" Kate spluttered, pointing at Ethan Craft, happily dancing away, in his own, totally unique and eccentric style.  
  
"You... ah- might want to go and join him," Lizzie poked, smiling all the while.  
  
"He's flying solo out there," Gordo added.  
  
"Yeah well- you two... why aren't you out there? Huh?" Kate fought back, trying to trap the pair.  
  
"All in due time, Kate," Gordo answered, before turning the tables once more, "I'd be more worried about getting a dance tonight, than whether or not Lizzie and I are".  
  
Kate stared menacingly at Lizzie's curly-haired partner, opened her mouth, then shut it quickly and stormed off, defeated.  
  
"Thanks Gordo," Lizzie said, pulling herself tightly to him.  
  
"I said I'm with you one hundred per cent," he recalled, "and that's how I feel".  
  
She looked at him oddly he noticed, but only momentarily, before her attention was drawn to everyone else, who were rising up to their feet, for the universal slow dance. The DJ had chosen a number Gordo knew, one of Norah Jones' songs. Everyone knew her, even him.  
  
Lizzie tugged at Gordo's arm and led him to the dance floor speedily, "are you ready?" she asked.  
  
He knew that whatever his answer would be, she would start anyway, so he caved and nodded.  
  
Just as they had, that night on her lawn, they resumed the dance they had both loved. Lizzie rested her head on Gordo's shoulder this time, not for show- not acting, but because she truly wanted to.  
  
"Gordo," she whispered, "I read my yearbook".  
  
He breathed heavily, "and?"  
  
"'I love acting Lizzie, but not as much as directing. I want to direct us away from all this acting and into a reality'," she quoted softly, word for word, what he had written.  
  
Gordo danced silently, without replying.  
  
"I don't want to act anymore either," she confessed, "I found something, while were acting, that I don't want to lose".  
  
"I found it too," he whispered back to her.  
  
"What is it that you found?" Lizzie asked, leaning back and gazing into his eyes, knowing exactly, however, what he was talking about.  
  
In that brief moment, he took advantage of the only thing that words cannot truly describe, or do justice. He explained to her, exactly how he felt, in the most intimate and amorous of kisses he could possibly muster.  
  
She could of let him do all the work, but that wasn't how she wanted it. She too, kissed him back, engaged him, and spoke to him in the same words he had.  
  
The funny thing was, neither of the them was acting anymore.  
  
A/N: So there we go, another done. Did you like it? Should I, perhaps, write a follow up? I'm currently writing 'Almost Famous', which, if you liked this L/G FanFic, I'm sure you'll like. Regardless, tell me what you think of this one, I'd be much appreciative =)  
  
Thanks go out, to all those who left a review and even those who didn't. Thanks for reading my story, it's good to know this stuff can still entertain people.  
  
Once again, very sorry about the delay. I assure you all, it won't happen again. And let us never speak of it again =)  
  
Cheers,  
  
mr-random-guy 


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